Just An Act
by Heroes Fly-Minho's Hero Limps
Summary: Two actors. One movie. All they need to do is pretend to be in love. It's all just an act, though, right? (Minewt...again, haha)
1. Chapter 1

-Just An Act-

-All right, well, in one of my other stories, you guys all left some great requests for me to write another Of Minho & Newt story. And I was going to. But then I saw this request about Minho and Newt being actors who constantly deny being together and I needed to write it. XD Soooo maybe another Of Minho & Newt story will come later, but for now, I wrote this! Three parts long, tops, I swear (although all of my "three-part" stories end up being four... :P)

I hope you like it, because I had a lot of fun writing this. Reviews = Love. :D-

"Well, she's a member of the family and like it or not, I'm stuck with her."

"She's ridiculous. And she's not part of MY family, so I'm not dealing with her."

"Takumi, we're getting married and she's my mother."

"So?"

"SO, you're gonna have to...to...deal with...OH MY GOD, would you stop it?!"

The scene dissolved into huge sighs and groans of complaint as Newt finally snapped, breaking from his character. Cameras clicked and whirred, microphones were drawn back away from the actors, and the sunlight played over the expensive cars parked in the lot. The scene took place outside, which was very pleasant for everybody in this late spring weather. The entire crew hated being cooped up in studios for endless, tedious hours of shooting new scenes. This was a much better way of doing it: outdoors in the sun.

Right now, the crew was gathered outside an adorable little restaurant in White Glade. It was a cream-colored building of thick stones, with a red-and-white striped awning, and an outdoor eating area. Chairs and circular tables were set out behind a short, black fence. It was the perfect place for this particular scene of Sideways, a movie well on its way to being completed. It was an unusual love story (which prompted the title) about two boys who fell for each other, but now had to deal with the pressures and opinions of their very-different families. It was, obviously, a romantic comedy. Director, Thomas Edison, was incredibly proud of it.

That is, when the actors actually PLAYED THEIR PARTS.

"Newwwwwwt!" Thomas groaned in that drawling way he always did when he was annoyed. "What HAPPENED? We were doing so good! Did you forget your line?"

Isaac Newton, who was sitting on a chair by one of the outdoor tables, folded his arms over his chest defiantly. "No, I didn't forget my line," he answered, rolling his eyes at the absurd idea. "It's HIM." He pointed accusingly at the actor sitting across from him with a huge grin on his face.

"What did I do?" Minho Park, the second actor, asked innocently.

"You keep making that stupid face at me and I can't concentrate!"

"What face?"

"That one, you're doing it right now!"

"I'm supposed to act like I'm utterly in love with you; this is my In-Love face." Minho then propped his elbows on the table and gazed up at Newt through too-wide, dreamy eyes. Someone holding a camera snorted a laugh.

"No, that's you're I'm-Minho-and-I'm-gonna-act-stupid-now face," Newt quipped. But he lifted a hand to his shirt collar, tugging at the sky-blue fabric to hide the way he wanted to laugh at Minho's goofy expression.

Minho placed a hand over his heart. "How could you say that to your fiancé?" he asked in mock disappointment. (Newt played a boy named Ashton, who was "Takumi's" fiancé.)

"Aw, shut up."

Thomas cut off whatever Minho wanted to say next by hollering, "WHY MUST YOU CONTINUE TO RUIN MY MOVIE?" Both actors glanced over at him. Poor Thomas's sandy-brown hair was mussed, his navy T-shirt comically rumpled from him curling his fingers nervously in it whenever an actor screwed up. The curly-haired girl manning the camera beside him scooted herself an inch away from him.

Minho felt a twinge of pity for the director and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Sorry, Thomas," he apologized. "I was just messing around."

"Minho, you're always messing around!" Thomas complained, waving his copy of the script around for emphasis.

"Yeah, um, sorry about that too."

"Well, sorry isn't good enough!"

"You gonna kick me outta the movie?"

"Shuck, no, I can't do that! Are you crazy?!"

Minho's lips curved up at one side in amusement. It was kinda fun to get Thomas all worked up like this. He was by far, the most entertaining director Minho had ever worked with. He was always so flustered by every little thing and it was hilarious. He went flying into one of his lectures about "respectable actors" and "ruining movies," pacing in circles and making the rest of the crew roll their eyes. Minho knew this would take a while, so he zoned out a bit. Turning his gaze away from Thomas, he glanced at the actor across from him.

Newt was rubbing his forehead now, a sure sign he was stressed out, and leaning his elbow on the table. The sunlight lit his honey-blonde hair to white flame, and danced over his creamy skin. His lashes lowered as he pushed his bangs back, only to have them flop back down again. Sighing, his gaze flitted over and locked with Minho's. He raised his eyebrows as though to say, now look what you did, genius.

Minho shrugged and grinned: I don't see what's so bad about it.

Newt's mouth tipped up into a soft smile. The sunlight sought out his dark blue eyes, picking out different pinpricks of color: sky-blue, and stormy navy, and even charcoal-gray. In that moment, with glowing, spring air around him and that smile, Newt was stunning.

Minho felt his heart flutter.

And there it was. The reason that Minho had to mess around with Newt, and make him break character once in a while. Minho wanted to see the real Newt sometimes, because he couldn't help but hope for one thing, one simple, amazing thing.

He wanted this whole in-love thing to be more than just an act.

His thoughts were cut off when Thomas started shouting again. "All right, we're going to try the scene again!" he ordered. He flipped through his script, brown eyes skimming over the lines and jotted-down notes. "I want to start from the 'everything's gonna work out' line, at the end! Since we never got that far," he added with a meaningful glare at Minho.

Minho flashed him a shameless smirk in reply and winked. Thomas cast his eyes heavenward as though praying for strength.

"Okay, places, everyone!" Thomas yelled, and sat himself down in the foldout chair he'd brought for himself. "I want to do this fast and get it over with. We're running out of daylight."

"We're always 'running out of daylight,'" Minho muttered, as a few makeup artists and designers rushed out to the two actors to touch them up. "Everything has to be done in a hurry with this guy."

"I think he just wants to get done," Newt replied, having overheard Minho's grumbling.

"I want to get done too and you don't see me running around like a crazy person." Minho spoke while barely noticing the makeup artist fixing strands of his black hair that had stubbornly refused to stay spiked. He was used to constant fixing and things like this now. It hardly fazed him anymore.

Newt snorted. "Yeah, all I see you doing is making weird faces at me so I screw up every ten seconds."

"You're just so easy to pick on, Isaac."

"Ugh, don't call me Isaac."

Minho snickered darkly, hinting that he was officially calling Newt by his first name for the rest of the movie. Newt had time to shoot him a scowl before Thomas practically threw his script at the makeup crew to move the heck out of the way. With muttered sorry's and a few complaints, the team scrambled off away from the cameras' sight. Satisfied, Thomas called out to the actors one last time: "Okay, now, remember! You two just had the whole argument about Ashton's mother being unsupportive about your relationship! She might not come to the wedding, she hates Takumi, etcetera, etcetera... Minho, you're still unsure about the whole thing, and Newt, you have to make him see that it's going to work out because, I dunno, you love each other."

The curly-haired girl running the camera next to him sniggered. "Shouldn't be too hard to make that convincing," she commented, green eyes sparkling in playfulness.

Someone else murmured in agreement behind her and a few other crew members were nodding. Newt huffed out a breath at all of them. "For the sixteenth time, Minho and I are NOT DATING outside of this movie!"

Minho raised his hand jokingly. "Yeah, I'm actually straight," he called out, and the guy manning a microphone nearly dropped the thing when he laughed. Others chortled too, because everybody knew that Minho was the one who had flirted with every single guy in the building at least once, just to make his point that he was gay and proud of it. Not that he actually meant any of the flirting. There was only one person here he was interested in.

"I would like to shoot this scene sometime this year!" Thomas yelled, shutting everyone up. "We can joke about Newt and Minho's relationship later!"

Newt threw his hands up in the air. "WE ARE NOT IN A RELATIONSHIP."

"Sure, yeah, whatever you say, ALL RIGHT LET'S GET STARTED!" Thomas clapped his hands together once, a signal for everybody to start listening up and keeping their mouths shut. The girl with the camera stopped giggling and adjusted her glasses. The guys holding microphones raised them out of the way of the cameras. Newt switched to the chair next to Minho because that was where he was supposed to be sitting for this scene. Minho rested his elbows on the table and Newt leaned back in his chair.

"ACTION!" Thomas shouted, just because he loved shouting it.

Dead silence from the crew.

Newt offered a reassuring smile. "Hey, listen, everything's gonna work out," he told Minho, reciting the lines he knew by heart. "It always does, doesn't it?"

Minho lowered his gaze the way he'd been told to and slid it away from Newt. "I guess," he mumbled.

Newt tipped his head to the side to catch Minho's eye again. "You know my mom doesn't really hate you," he said, and Minho looked at him disbelievingly. "She just wants what's best for me."

"And she doesn't think I can be what's best for you?" The way Minho's voice rang with disappointment was perfect; Thomas muttered a happy, "yes!" from the side.

Newt shrugged with one shoulder. "Someday, she'll understand. And besides—" Thomas made a hand motion and Newt placed his hand on top of Minho's. "—I know you're the best thing that's ever happened to me," Newt went on, curling his fingers around Minho's. (Minho swallowed shakily, unnoticed by the camera) "That's all that really matters."

"You're awfully calm about the fact that your own mother hates me," Minho scoffed with a dry half-smile.

"Aw, come on, Tak," Newt encouraged, bumping their shoulders together and using the nickname Thomas had come up with for "Takumi." "Just give her a chance."

Minho pretended to think, sighing loudly. Newt's thumb rubbed circles into his palm. "Fine," he conceded, and Newt broke into a very convincing, very dazzling grin. "But she better not try to murder me before the wedding."

Newt let out a burst of silver laughter, the kind of sound that birds make in far-off trees. With the lingering smile still on his face, he leaned in and pressed his forehead to Minho's. Thomas muttered another, "yes!" and Minho let his eyelids droop dreamily at Newt's closeness. All just acting for the scene, of course.

Newt's silken hair tickled Minho's forehead as Newt tilted his head so that their noses brushed. "I love you," he murmured.

Minho's stomach flipped, and his heart melted, and he nearly said, "I love you, too," but that wasn't his line. He chuckled and brushed a strand of hair from Newt's face like he was supposed to. He thought he heard Newt's breath hitch. "Yeah, yeah, I know," he teased. "You only tell me every other day."

Newt gave him a playful shove. "Shut up."

"Annnnnnnnd DONE! YES! IT WAS BEAUTIFUL!" Thomas cheered like a mad man and jumped up off his seat. His face glowed with happiness. As you can probably tell, he was huge sucker for romantic scenes.

Newt quickly pulled back away from Minho and stood up. Minho thought he saw a growing blush tinting Newt's cheeks, but it had to be his imagination. He swept foolish thoughts like that to the back of his mind as the cameramen and other workers began to pack up. Pieces clattered together, car doors slammed, and voices buzzed. A girl with white-blonde hair named Sonya, head of the design/makeup team, stopped to talk with Thomas. One of the cameramen cursed as he nearly dropped his things.

Minho got up out of his seat with a sigh. Another day of filming done. Rolling the sleeves of his black shirt up to his elbows, he started to walk away from the table. He was surprised when Newt fell into step beside him. "G—good job." Newt's eyes softened when he looked at Minho.

Did he just stutter? Minho thought delightedly. "You too," he replied, letting his shoulder graze Newt's as they walked.

"Thanks," Newt said sheepishly. He rubbed the back of his head with one hand, taking a breath to add something else, but he was interrupted.

"Awww!" Brenda, a member of the design team, called out. "Look at the two lovebirds walkin' together!" She winked suggestively and her crowd of friends laughed.

Newt and Minho both turned and shouted, "WE ARE NOT DATING!" Then they glanced at each other, as though surprised that the other had spoken.

"Whatever you say, guys!" Brenda flapped her hand dismissively, obviously not believing them.

Newt growled under his breath. "I can't believe they think I'm actually dating you," he muttered. Then he saw Minho raising his eyebrows at him and hurried on, "I mean, not that I WOULDN'T date you ever, or like, that you're unattractive or anything, cuz you're not, I just, um, we're not...together...like that." He finished lamely and his face turned bright red.

Minho smirked. "Glad you explained all that to me, Isaac."

"Please stop calling me Isaac!"


	2. Chapter 2

-Here's the next part, guys! Thank you so much for the reviews; you guys are awesome readers XD I hope you enjoy this chapter, because I had a LOT of fun writing this one, haha. Let me know what you think!-

Well, it was eleven o'clock at night and Minho was standing in a huge bathroom, with six other people, in his pj's. Welcome to the world of acting, people.

"I don't see why we had to use Thomas's house for this," Minho said drily, as a redhead named Abigail sprayed water in his hair. (it was, apparently, a scene where he just got out of a shower) "My place is ten times better. I have a bigger bathroom."

Abigail blew strands of wavy hair out of her face. "No, you don't," she argued. "Thomas is rich, everybody knows that. He likes to use his house in movies sometimes."

"How do you know my bathroom's not bigger?" Minho asked, completely ignoring her other statement. "When have you been in it?"

"I wasn't in it, I was just guessing. This is a pretty big bathroom, Minho; all seven of us are fitting in it right now."

"Yeah, okay, if you call this 'fitting.' Sonya's practically grinding on me right now."

Sonya, who couldn't help but be squished up against Minho's side by another designer, rolled her eyes. "I thought you only flirted with guys, Minho," she said. She tucked blonde hair back into her bun and reached up to fiddle with his now-damp hair.

"I thought you only flirted with Harriet, Sonya," Minho flashed back good-humoredly. A dark-skinned girl behind him raised her head in surprise, looking at him in the mirror through wide, mahogany eyes. Minho pointed at Sonya, winked, and mouthed, she likes you.

"Stop being an ass," Sonya muttered, her face flushed.

"You're still grinding on me."

"In your dreams."

"More like in yours."

"Cocky much?"

"Ouch."

Abigail tossed her hands up in frustration. "What is it with you two always arguing?" she demanded.

"It's how we show our undying love for each other," Minho answered lightly, then snickered when he heard Sonya make choking sounds. He lifted a hand to his mouth to hide his next words from her. "She acts like she likes Harriet, but she's secretly in love with me. Just too proud to admit it."

Abigail gave him a withering glance and went back to adjusting strands of hair so that they flopped down across his forehead. Someone else was tugging at his white tee and saying something about maybe switching to a black one to match his black-and-blue pj bottoms. All tedious parts of the job. Then Harriet spoke up from the back: "don't worry about it, Sonya; we all know who MINHO'S secretly in love with." The usual ooooooh's and catcalls arose at her words.

Minho watched, horrified, in the mirror as he blushed. "I am NOT in love with Newt!"

Harriet arched a brow. "I never said a word about Newt," she pointed out. "You came up with his name all on your own."

"So you have to be in love with him!" Sonya crowed, and the designer beside her—Alby might have been his name—wolf-whistled.

"What is wrong with you people?" Minho asked, raising his voice over the hoots and laughter. "Why is it so hard to believe that we're not dating?"

"Uh, cuz two days ago, during the swimming pool scene, Paige said she saw you checking him out and you were practically drooling," Sonya told him matter-of-factly.

Paige was an older women with dark blonde hair and blue eyes. She was playing Newt's mother in the movie and she was actually there with them today. "Damn you, Paige," Minho muttered, and instantly the designers were roaring again, insisting that he'd just admitted to Paige's accusations. Of course, he argued with them, denying it until the end, and the bathroom was turned into a chaos of shouting and laughter.

"HEY!" Thomas's voice hollered from outside and everybody in the bathroom groaned. "WHAT'S TAKING SO LONG IN THERE? I NEED MY ACTOR. THERE'S THIS THING CALLED A MOVIE AND I'M TRYING TO FILM IT!"

Abigail wrinkled her nose. "I hate when he talks to us like we're idiots."

"Then maybe," Minho said slowly, as though about to reveal something incredible, "you guys should stop acting like you're idiots."

"Get out of here!" Sonya snapped, smacking him on the arm. "I've had enough of arrogant actors for the day."

Minho childishly stuck his tongue out at her as he and the rest of the designers filed out of the open bathroom door. They all emerged into one of the gigantic bedrooms of Thomas Edison's mansion. The walls were a warm golden color and the soft carpet beneath their feet was creamy white. All of the furniture was made of sleek wood: a dresser at the back and a bedside table with a digital clock and a lamp. Thomas had taken out all of his personal possessions or anything that would seem out of place for the movie. Since the character, Ashton's family was wealthy, it made sense to shoot certain scenes in this beautiful mansion. Right now, in the movie, they were at a scene where Ashton and Takumi were staying over at Ashton's parents' house, as a get-together before the wedding.

In the room right now was a cluster of women and men holding cameras and microphones. Thomas was back by the dresser so that he could face the queen-sized bed and not be seen. Newt was perched on the edge of the bed, one leg folded on the mattress and the other dangling over the side. He wore black boxers and a white tank top as pj's, seemingly unaffected by the cameras' eyes on him. He glanced up at Minho as the other boy entered the room and offered a half-smile. "Nice hair," he commented, a twinkle in his eyes.

"Nice underwear," Minho flashed back with a grin.

Newt blew his bangs out of his face, an amused smile pulling his lips up.

"Okay, are we ready for this scene now, or what?" Thomas demanded, directing his glare toward the makeup crew. They all shrugged and muttered yes's, and a couple scowled right back at him. Sonya just gave him a thumbs-up sign. "Good. All right, so here's the scene," Thomas began importantly. "Takumi and Ashton are staying over at Ashton's parents' house; we all knew that already. You guys are going to have a conversation, starting at the line when Takumi comes out of the shower and going on from there. You two are still worried about staying over because of Ashton's mother. And then, of course, there's the whole..." He flapped his hand around like he was pulling the words out of the air. "...make-out scene, so—"

"Ooooooooooh!" everybody in the room chorused, and Sonya called, "bet SOMEONE'S gonna enjoy that!"

Newt's face flushed crimson and Minho could feel his cheeks burning too. "We are NOT dating!" they both yelled again, but all they got in reply were unconvinced looks from the crew. Minho vowed to find some kind of revenge for them later.

"I was GOING to say, let's please be mature about this!" Thomas rose his voice over the hoots and catcalls. They reluctantly quieted again. He huffed and leaned back against the dresser as he read over the script. "I want this to be short and painless. Halfway through...that scene...Paige, who is playing Ashton's mother, Loretta, is going to come in through the door and basically scare the crap out of you two." He glanced up at Minho and Newt. "Think you can handle that? You know, without screwing up?"

Newt shrugged with one shoulder. "Sure."

"Shouldn't be a problem," Minho added, crossing his arms. He was already thinking back to what lines he had, which one he said first, how he'd act...

"Oh, and I want that off. It'll look better for the coming-out-of-the-shower part."

Minho blinked as he realized that Thomas was pointing at him. Or more specifically, his chest. He reached up and curled his fingers uncertainly in his T-shirt. "You mean my shirt?" he asked.

"Yes, the shirt, what did you think?" Thomas asked.

"Oh, okay." Minho didn't really mind. He'd been shirtless in other movies and scenes before. Hooking his fingers in the hem, he started to pull the T-shirt up his chest. He paused once to shoot Sonya a mischievous smirk. "Try to behave now, Sonya," he scolded lightly, and if looks could kill, hers would've burnt him alive.

"Oh, please," she muttered, crossing her arms and shifting her gaze to the wall.

Minho snickered at her in reply and peeled his shirt off the rest of the way. Someone took it from him before he could drop it on the floor. Everyone's eyes (except Thomas's; his were glued to the script while he muttered to himself) went to one place in the room. Someone cleared their throat awkwardly. Brenda pretended to swoon, falling back into a friend's arms, before giving Minho a teasing grin. Minho folded his arms over his chest and met her grin with one of his own. Then he glanced at Newt. The blonde's eyes raked over him like a touch to the skin, before darting quickly away. Was it Minho's imagination, or were Newt's hands shaking the tiniest bit?

"Okayyy...everyone, positions, please!" Thomas ordered. Instantly, cameras were focused and the makeup crew scooted out of sight in the hallway. Paige was out there too, waiting for her cue to bust the door down later. Minho backed up out of sight in the bathroom. Newt switched to lying stretched out on the bed, his hands folded casually behind his head and propped up on pillows. Once the shuffling of feet and the muffled whispers had completely died away, Thomas became entirely focused on the scene. "Annnnnnnd action!" he yelled dramatically. (out in the hallway, Sonya crossed her eyes and mouthed the words as he said them, and Abigail nearly choked, trying to hold back her own laughter)

Minho immediately fell into his role. Running one hand through his damp hair, he sauntered out of the bathroom like he owned the place. "You think your mom's spying on us?" he asked, letting some anxiety into his voice. He turned a somewhat-worried expression on Newt.

Newt scoffed, unconcerned. "Why would she want to spy on us?"

"I dunno," Minho replied, shrugging. He could feel the cameras' lenses fixed on him, like a prickle under his skin. He pushed that uncomfortable feeling away and went on with his lines. "Remember at dinner, earlier? She mentioned that she once thought I was a drug dealer."

"She did not really think that," Newt argued.

"Then why'd she say it?"

"To annoy you."

"Oh yeah, I forgot how much she loves to do that."

"Shut up, Tak, she likes you. She just..."

"Won't admit it?" Minho arched an eyebrow when he said that, and an almost-smirk tugged his mouth up. Then he flopped himself down on the bed the way Thomas's notes on the script had said to, landing on his back and sighing heavily. "You're in denial, Ashton. She's trying to find reasons to get rid of me. And me being a drug dealer would definitely qualify as a good reason."

Newt turned his head to meet Minho's gaze, a lock of silken hair drifting down across one eye. "Oh, yes, I'm sure she's planning on planting drugs in our room to frame you right now," he said, and the sarcasm dripped from his voice. Thomas grinned broadly from across the room, happy with the way things were going.

"I wouldn't be surprised if she actually had drugs," Minho remarked, one arm across his stomach and other sprawled on the pillows above his head. Newt smacked him scoldingly on the arm in response, making him grin. "Okay, okay, so maybe she DOESN'T have drugs."

"Of course she doesn't."

"But she DEFINITELY plans on getting some to frame me."

"Takumi!" Newt gave Minho a playful shove this time, keeping one hand behind his head.

Minho laughed, partly acting and partly because Newt probably would've acted the same exact way in real life. "What'd I say?" he asked, propping himself up on his side with an elbow to look down at the blonde.

The way Newt looked up at him, eyes stormy blue and a slight curve to his lips, made Minho's pulse rev up. Newt's gaze flicked away to one side, feigning annoyance. "You know what you said," he replied stubbornly.

"Aw, come on," Minho prodded. He nudged Newt in the side with a hand, making the blonde's smile widen but his gaze stayed firmly fixed on the wall. "Remind me."

"No."

"You're just not gonna look at me for the rest of the night?"

"Yep."

"Well, that's not acceptable." Minho caught Thomas gesturing to him out of the corner of his eye. Oh joy, so it was THAT part of the scene. Ignoring the tickle of butterflies in his stomach, Minho pushed himself over in bed until he was holding himself up over Newt on his forearms. The blonde was still supposed to smile, but it went a bit crooked as he looked up at Minho. "What do you think you're doing?" he asked lightly.

"Driving my future husband crazy," Minho replied, allowing a real grin to surface on his face.

"Keep annoying me like this and you won't HAVE future husband." Newt tipped his chin up defiantly. There were three inches between them and their legs were slotted together at the ankles.

Minho raised his eyebrows. "Annoying you? How is this annoying you?" As he spoke he leaned in, and now he placed a kiss on Newt's forehead. A pang of nerves hit him and after that, came more butterflies in his stomach. Acting through these scenes was complicated sometimes, mainly because of his stupid, crazy crush on Newt.

"Maybe I just wanna sleep," Newt told him, placing his hands at the back of Minho's neck.

"Maybe you're lying," Minho returned in a murmur.

"But how're you gonna prove it?"

"Like this."

Minho kissed him.

Immediately, sparks lit up inside of him and he couldn't breathe, couldn't think. He tried to remind himself that this was just acting, that there were cameras watching them, and this was all part of a movie. But it felt too real for his own good. Newt's fingers were in his hair at the back of his neck, his other hand slipping down to Minho's shoulder. The way he leaned up into the kiss sent Minho's mind spinning. They weren't supposed to go past kissing. But it didn't matter. Minho was already done for anyway. He surprised himself when he parted Newt's lips with his own, and even more surprised when Newt let him. A tiny gasp came from the blonde, the only sign that he was caught off-guard. But he just angled his head and kissed Minho harder, deeper. Minho fought down the whimper of pleasure that was building in his chest.

He suddenly remembered that Newt had a small line somewhere in here; to let him talk, Minho broke away from the kiss and ducked to kiss Newt's neck. Again, JUST TO LET HIM TALK. NOTHING ELSE. He kept telling himself this as he grazed his lips along the smooth, graceful curve of Newt's throat. That was when Newt made a mistake. Minho heard him take a breath to say the line and braced himself for Paige's entrance. Newt let out a blissful sigh, tilting his neck into Minho's kisses, and bit his bottom lip against a grin. "Min," he laughed breathlessly, and Minho's heart soared.

"CUT!" Thomas suddenly shouted, his script crinkling as he tossed it onto the dresser in exasperation. Several members of the camera crew muttered indignantly to each other. "Why can't you guys get this right?" Thomas asked.

Minho pushed himself into a sitting position beside Newt as the blonde sat up. While Thomas yelled, Minho braced himself up on his hands and tried to get his breathing steady again. Newt's hair was adorably mussed, his lips and throat flushed from kisses. He frowned confusedly at Thomas. "What'd we do that time?"

"You screwed up your line," Thomas told him, snatching his script again to skim over it.

Newt blinked. "What? When?"

"Just now. You were supposed to say Takumi's name."

"And I did—"

"You said 'Min.'" Thomas crossed his arms and leaned against the dresser, waiting for an explanation.

Newt stopped, thinking. "I...What?"

"You said, Min," Thomas repeated firmly. "You called Minho by his real name."

Newt opened his mouth, then closed it again. A blush rose in his cheeks and he cleared his throat awkwardly. "...oh," he mumbled, scrubbing the back of his neck with a hand. "I didn't mean to."

A ripple of laughter spread through the cameramen. "Caught in the moment?" one of them asked, and the others sniggered again.

Newt's blush deepened and Minho could feel the burn of everyone's eyes on him too. Just more proof for them, of course. They'd be even more convinced of Newt and Minho's "relationship" now. Though inwardly, Minho wouldn't mind if there actually was a relationship to talk about. Thomas had started lecturing again, so Minho took a chance; he glanced over at Newt and was surprised to find the blonde looking back at him. Newt was embarrassed at first, apologetic, even. But then his mouth quirked up and his eyes darted down Minho's chest, his toned stomach, then back up to his face again. A teasing glint lit his indigo gaze. Minho could feel himself staring in shock. Was Newt checking him out? Right now?

Then Thomas mentioned Newt's name and the blonde glanced away from Minho. Minho was grateful because now he could breathe again.

That was about when he knew how very screwed he was.

-PS: Anyone notice the thing between Harriet and Sonya? I decided to put that in this to show that just because I write about guys in relationships a lot (and I happen to be straight myself), it doesn't mean I have anything against girls being together either. Love is love, no matter who you fall for.


	3. Chapter 3

-Last chapter! Thanks so much for the reviews; you're all awesome readers!Enjoy!-

The final weeks of filming were a flurry of Thomas's raised voice, clattering equipment, and the rustle of scripts. Cars and vans were driven back and forth from Thomas's mansion, to other sets where scenes were shot at in town. Makeup was hurriedly applied, clothes were thrown on and changed, and lines were memorized as quickly at possible.

Minho was beginning to feel the stress weigh down on him. Some nights, he didn't get much sleep, he was too busy reading over his lines or acting in another scene. Sometimes, he'd be alone, the words blurring in his vision until tiredness dragged him to sleep. Once in a while, Newt would be with him, dragging other actors along so that they could study the script together. Minho ached for those nights when it was just him and Newt together, studying a scene only they were in. It felt like the room around them shrank in, focused on just the two of them in the late hours.

It was on one of those nights that Minho found himself unable to focus on his script whatsoever. He was sitting cross-legged on the floor in his hotel room, back against the bed. He rubbed at his temple with a hand, feeling the trace of a headache coming on. This script was impossible to learn this late at night; if it weren't for the little lamp on the bedside table, the room would be pitch-black right now. Newt was there too, stretched out on his stomach on the bed beside Minho. His arms hung over the side, holding his script with its scribbled notes in blue ink. Minho had decided not to care that Newt was there and only wore his pj's: boxer shorts and a white T-shirt. He tried in vain to ignore how soft and touchable Newt looked in black shorts and an oversized, gray hoodie.

After another minute of read-throughs and careless mistakes, Minho tossed his script onto the floor in front of him. "All right, I'm done," he announced. "This is too hard and it's too late."

Newt blew out a heavy breath. "You can't be done," he replied flatly. "We're not even halfway through the scene yet."

"We don't even get halfway through when Thomas is here," Minho pointed out. "He's always stopping us because of some mistake or something."

"Well, maybe we wouldn't make so many mistakes if SOMEONE wouldn't keep throwing me off somehow," Newt said, meaningfully pushing Minho in the shoulder.

"Oh, so it's my fault?" Minho asked playfully.

"Ninety-nine percent of the time, yes."

"And how do I 'throw you off,' then?"

Newt sent him a dry glance before counting them off on his fingers. "Let's see, you make faces at me, whisper jokes right before a scene starts, bother the makeup crew, annoy Thomas, and call me Isaac."

Minho smirked wickedly. "Don't forget the time you messed up the scene just cuz I kissed you," he teased.

Newt's face flushed crimson. "I did NOT mess up JUST because you kissed me."

"What was it then?"

"I was...I messed up on my own, okay? It had nothing to do with you."

"I doubt it."

Newt shook his head, a half-smile playing over his lips. "Why're you so bloody stubborn about this?" he asked. "We're always telling everyone that we're not dating outside of the movie, yet here you are, talking about kissing me."

Minho shifted, suddenly uncomfortable with the conversation. "I'm just messing with you again," he replied. "It doesn't mean anything."

"It doesn't?" Newt searched Minho's face carefully, smoky blue eyes curious.

"No," Minho answered simply, "it doesn't." Sighing, he speared his hands back through his hair, messing it up. Then he leaned forward and snagged his script from the floor again. "Let's just read some more lines and get this scene done so I can sleep," he muttered.

Newt was silent for a moment, perhaps thinking about Minho's denial. But he didn't push it anymore. "Okay," he agreed, flipping open his script again. "Where do you wanna start at?"

"Um..." Minho skimmed over the lines until he found one of Newt's that seemed good to start at. "Let's start at your line about the future-husband-thing. We were shaky on that, and then Thomas interrupted the scene, so..." he trailed off with a questioning glance up at Newt.

Newt nodded. "Sure, okay." Taking a moment to read the lines again, he tried looking away from the script to say the lines. "Keep annoying me like this, and you won't have a future husband," he recited.

Minho glanced away from his own script to see if he had his memorized too. "Annoying you?" he asked. "How is this annoying you?"

"Maybe I just wanna sleep." Newt smiled at the irony of the statement; they were both exhausted from the long day and now they were still reading lines late at night.

"Maybe you're lying," Minho answered, feeling a strange weight to the words.

"But how're you gonna prove it?" Newt asked, softer.

Minho swallowed nervously. "Like this."

They sat quietly for a minute. The only sound were the tiny clicks of the clock on the wall. Minho didn't know why, but he felt like the air was electrical around them. He was acutely aware of the fact that they were all alone in this room, with no one else to see or judge. The rest of the camera crew wasn't around to wolf-whistle or make jokes. It felt strangely, like freedom.

Awkwardly, Newt cleared his throat. "This is the part where we kiss," he told Minho.

"I know," Minho answered with a slow nod.

"Yeah."

"You still have a line though."

"What? Oh yeah, I say your name."

"Uh-huh."

"Well," Newt stammered to correct himself, "not YOUR name, since the movie's not about you, but, um...yeah."

Minho smiled in amusement. "Yeah."

Another tense moment of silence. Minho could feel Newt's gaze searing into him from above and it drove him crazy. He wanted to move on with the scene, find another place to start at, anything to keep his mind off of the beautiful blonde above him. Finally, he took a deep breath. "Maybe we should...practice acting?" he suggested uncertainly. He turned his head to meet Newt's gaze.

Newt tipped his head to one side in puzzlement. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, maybe we should practice that part with your line," Minho explained. Newt's eyebrows rose and Minho hurried on, "just so you can say it right, without screwing up. Thomas'll throw a fit if we mess it up again."

Newt's mouth quirked up knowingly. "So this isn't because you wanna kiss me?" he asked with an air of smugness. "You just wanna practice acting?"

Minho shrugged with a shoulder, trying for casualness. "Yeah. Unless you don't want to..."

"No, we can...practice, I guess."

"Um, okay."

"Okay."

"...s—so how do you...?" Minho turned his head to look up at Newt, about to ask him a question. But his voice faded away on his tongue when he felt Newt tipping his chin up with two fingers, leaning in with half-closed stormy eyes. Their lips brushed together and Minho was lost. Newt kissed him softly, gently, as though afraid of doing something wrong. But despite his careful movements, his mouth was so soft and he tasted like sugar. Minho welcomed it, closing his eyes. Reaching up, he skimmed his fingertips over Newt's cheek, cupping his face. The angle was a bit awkward, with Newt laying on the bed and Minho below him, but Minho didn't mind. He tilted his chin up more, tentatively nipping at Newt's lips. Newt made a soft sound and his fingers were suddenly knotting in the neckline of Minho's T-shirt.

Unfolding his legs, Minho let Newt tug him upward; the blonde sat up on his knees, pulling the other actor to him as Minho climbed onto the bed. They never broke from each other for more than a second. Both on their knees, they kissed slowly, an intoxicating heat in the room. Minho placed a hand at Newt's lower back, burying the other deep in golden hair at the back of Newt's head. Newt's arms were around his neck, warm and sure in the lamplight. Minho knew he was getting too carried away. He should pull back and stop this, before it became too much. But he couldn't.

Newt hummed lowly, and mumbled, "Minho," against Minho's mouth.

Minho managed a brief smile into Newt's lips. "You said the wrong thing again," he murmured, stroking his fingers through Newt's hair. "So we gotta stop."

"No, I didn't," Newt whispered, and Minho stiffened. "And there's no way in hell I'm stopping."

Minho had dreamed of this moment so many times, but nothing could come close to reality. With a little gasp, he crushed his mouth to Newt's again. But this time, he kissed Newt like he meant it, desperate and deep. His hands couldn't decide where to go, clutching at the back of Newt's hoodie, then dropping to his hips. They inched his hoodie up, index fingers grazing bare skin underneath. Newt locked his arms around Minho's neck, welcoming every touch. One side of his wide-necked hoodie slipped down off his shoulder, unnoticed. He kissed with teasing sweeps of his tongue that made Minho dizzy and drunk. He nearly lost his mind when Newt snuck a hand up his shirt.

Minho broke the kiss with a ragged breath and snatched at the hem of his shirt. Tearing it off, he grabbed for Newt again and locked their mouths together once more. Newt whimpered pitifully in helpless pleasure and it almost sent Minho over the edge. He felt Newt's hands plant on his chest and shove him back. With no thought at all, he let the smaller blonde force him back onto the mattress and slide on top of him. Hands were on him now, slender fingers slipping over his biceps and tracing the line of his collarbone; Newt's palms flattened against Minho's chest, one holding part of his weight up and the other playing over Minho's toned stomach. Minho's senses all crumbled away from him, leaving him only with the feeling of Newt touching him.

"I've wanted you since the first day," Minho breathed out between kisses. "The very first day, when you walked up to me and said my name."

Newt managed half of a drunken smirk. "Why whenever I said your name?" he asked, catching Minho's bottom lip in his teeth.

Minho struggled for air, his body burning up under Newt's. "Because no one says it like you," he murmured.

Newt dropped a kiss on Minho's nose. "You're adorable, Minho," he whispered.

Minho suddenly couldn't stand the fabric of Newt's hoodie between them. Gripping the bottom of it, he rucked it up Newt's body, disappointed to find that Newt still wore a white tank top underneath. Newt lifted his arms and Minho peeled the hoodie over his head. Tossing it on the mattress, he took Newt's shoulders and switched positions. Newt sank back against the bed, his eyes very blue and very foggy. Minho slid himself over the blonde and kissed him again. Splaying his hands at Minho's broad shoulders, Newt kissed back. He let his hips cant upward until they pressed into Minho's. Releasing a shaky moan, Minho dropped one hand to Newt's shorts. Without thinking, he dipped his fingers into the waistband.

Gasping, Newt broke away. "W—wait," he stuttered hurriedly.

Immediately, Minho stopped. His chest heaved as he fought for enough air in his lungs, feeling like all of it had been stolen by Newt. "What?" he asked, raising his eyes to Newt's.

Newt looked beautiful beneath Minho, his breaths coming unevenly and his lips flushed from the heat they made together. "I...I don't think we should go any farther," he rasped.

"Why not?" Minho asked gently.

"We shouldn't rush this," Newt told him. "I know we've...kissed before, during the movie, but it wasn't real. It wasn't this." He stroked his thumb over Minho's bottom lip as he spoke. Minho had to bite back a whine of want. "I just don't want to jump into something too fast."

Minho sighed in resignation. "I understand," he mumbled.

Newt smiled apologetically. "Sorry."

"Don't be sorry." Minho's chest filled with warmth when he admired the sweeps and curves of Newt's body underneath his. He leaned down to kiss Newt's forehead. "I'm happy just to be with you right now."

Newt's eyes glowed. "You really like me, don't you? Even when you went to all that trouble denying it?"

"No," Minho said, shaking his head. Newt blinked in surprise, and Minho grinned. "I'm in love with you."

Newt laughed and leaned up for a kiss. "That's almost an I-love-you," he whispered against Minho's lips.

Minho didn't let Newt pull away, following him to keep the kiss lingering. Only after hearing Newt's blissful sigh did he draw back. "Almost, huh?" he asked, caressing Newt's cheek with a thumb. "Maybe that was just my way of saying it." Newt grinned shyly, his gaze shifting away at Minho's touch. Minho began to sit up, bracing himself on an elbow. "Wanna stay the night?" he asked. Then he saw Newt's raised eyebrows and went on hastily, "I—I mean, to sleep with me. Or, er, NOT to sleep with me, just to...to sleep. Here. Yeah." He scrubbed the back of his head with a hand.

Newt shook his head at Minho's stammering. "Yeah," he answered softly, "I'll stay."

-x-x-x-

The next day, Sonya caught them walking out of the same room together. The rumors went wild through the filming crew, and even Thomas added a few suggestive jokes of his own.

Minho and Newt didn't even bother denying it.


End file.
